Skyrider of Renegade Point

by Erik Christensen

  “A little early, don’t you think?” asked William. “You have nothing to do on your farm to prepare for spring?”

  Kofi shrugged. “It’s too early to sow, nothing to harvest, no critters being birthed. A man likes to relax when he gets a chance.”

  “And you find knocking down Santiago’s fence relaxing, do you?” He didn’t wait for Kofi to answer, but instead turned to his rival. “Santiago, did you witness Kofi breaking your fence?”

  “Not exactly,” said Santiago.

  “So how do you know he did it?”

  “Because no one else would, my lord. It’s always him who steals my tools, or dumps leaves on my doorstep, or knocks holes in my rain barrel.”

  “I never did no such thing,” shouted Kofi.

  “No one believes a liar,” Santiago yelled back.

  William rubbed his forehead. “The two of you are giving me a headache. Santiago, when did you first see your fence knocked over?”

  “On my way back from having beers with Jimmy, sir.”

  “I see. And was it lunchtime?”

  Santiago hesitated. “A little after breakfast, I suppose.”

  William noted with relief that the crowd did not chuckle this time. “And you had nothing to do on your farm either?”

  “It’s the slow season,” said Santiago with a shrug.

  “And what do you say to his accusation that you poisoned his goats?”

  “I never did nothin’ to his goats,” said Santiago, the beginnings of a smirk appearing on his face. “They were probably sick from the sight of his ugly face.”

  Kofi responded with a shout, and the two men traded insults as the crowd behind them howled with laughter, while William banged his gavel to no effect. The two men continued their barrage of verbal abuse, slowly approaching each other until they were close enough to come to blows.

  William jumped to his feet, slamming his gavel so hard that the head flew off, arced across the hall, and landed at the far end in a clatter. The hall went from chaos to silence in a heartbeat, every eye fixed on him. He pointed the useless handle at each of the two men with a shaking hand. “I’ve had enough. Not just from the two of you, but everyone. Everywhere I go, I find a crowd of people with nothing to do, but for some reason every fence needs repair, every wall needs whitewashing, every plot needs plowing. Fights occur at least once a week, and everyone accuses everyone else of stealing, or vandalizing, or looking at them in the wrong tone of voice. There’s work to be done, and yet all I ever see is idle hands…”

  A chair squeaked from the back, but no other sound reached his ears. He gazed at the faces staring back at him, reading their expressions as he’d done countless times since assuming his position, trying to determine how they regarded him. He detected fear in some, admiration in others. But it dawned on him now that one emotion was absent.

  Respect. He may be the Defender of Rebel Falls, the Baron of Whitehall Manor, the Brother of the Dragon Queen, but it didn’t matter, because they knew the real William Whitehall. They might like him, fear him, even admire him. But they didn’t respect him.

  He caught Miss Plevins staring at him. Turning away from her, he stood at his full height and gave each defendant an intense gaze. “I’ve made my decision,” he said. Santiago turned pale and began sweating, while Kofi swallowed hard and pleaded with his eyes. William stared them both down and continued. “I find you both guilty of mischief and disturbing the peace. Past sentences have failed to stop repeated offenses of the same nature, so I have to do something else, something you’ll remember, or we’ll have the same trial again next week with two different defendants.”

  Miss Plevins caught his attention again. There was no pleading in her eyes, no doubt, no judgment. Just trust, confidence, belief, as though he were back in school giving a speech, and that she knew he would do well. He shook his head to clear it and continued. “I hereby sentence you…”

  The words wouldn’t come. What punishment would prevent these two men, and others like them, from repeating the same offenses? Nothing seemed to get through to them, no matter how harshly he fined them or what labor he tasked them with. They may as well be…

  Children. His old teacher’s words echoed in his mind. He understood their meaning now. The tension in his forehead released, and his eyes found hers as they shared a private smile. He faced the two men again. “I sentence you both…to have fun.”

  Chapter 9

  Melissa pushed aside her sketches and glared at William. “This isn’t supposed to be why you asked me here, Will. I thought we were planning the wedding.”

  William squirmed in his chair at the dining hall table, hoping Melissa hadn’t guessed that he’d forgotten their earlier plans. “We still can, but I want you to see the games first. And to be a judge.”

  “Why can’t you be a judge?” she asked.

  “The villagers can’t see me taking sides,” he said.

  “Oh, but it’s okay if I take sides? Remember, I’ll be living here too.”

  “It’s different,” he insisted. “You don’t live here yet, and they have no reason to think you have favorites.”

  Melissa raised her hands in defeat. “Fine, I’ll be a judge. But I better not be the only one. If there’s a riot when the wrong team loses, I want somebody to share the blame.”

  William laughed and kissed her forehead. “Miss Plevins and Agatha agreed to be the other judges. I can’t think of three finer people to blame for the breakdown of law and order.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, pretending outrage. “Maybe I’ll pick a favorite just to watch you handle a riot.”

  William stood and handed Melissa her coat. “Let’s go. Santiago and Kofi are picking their teams right now, and I want to be there before they finish.”

  “Are you bringing your dog?” she asked as she slipped into her coat.

  William sighed. “He’s a dragon, Melissa.”

  She scratched behind the dragon’s ear. “He acts just like a dog. A giant, green, scaly dog. Don’t you Clyde? See, he’s even wagging his tail.”

  The team selection was well under way when they arrived, Kofi and Santiago taking turns selecting from the crowd at the back of the hall. Each chosen person moved to the seats behind their captain, laughing and joking with their teammates. Ruskin rose to let William take the main seat on the dais, but William shook his head and signaled for Ruskin to remain. Miss Plevins sat beside Ruskin, writing each name as the captain called it. Jack and Agatha handed ribbons to those who were selected, green for Kofi’s team, red for Santiago’s.

  “Pretty slick operation,” said Melissa with a smirk. “You don’t have to do a thing.”

  He held a chair for her, then sat beside her. “I’m told that’s how lords operate.”

  “Obviously, that will change when I move here.”

  “I suppose I’d better enjoy it now,” he said with a wink.

  The crowd of unselected people thinned, the remaining people mostly girls and older folks. Miss Plevins called out to the two team captains. “Remember, Lord William hasn’t announced what the events will be. Don’t select your teams based on muscle only. You’ll need wit as well.”

  “Have you even decided what the events are yet?” asked Melissa.

  William shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

  She swatted his arm. “Don’t be cagey. Tell me what the events are.”

  “I can’t. You’re a judge. And besides, you told me you were going to pick a favorite, and I can’t have you helping them behind my back.”

  “Don’t be silly—I’ll do that right in front of you. Besides, I’ve already picked my favorite.” She nodded toward a girl of about ten years who was clearly frustrated at not being selected yet. Each time Kofi or Santiago stood to choose, she would wave her arms to get noticed. She was ignored every time, her face switching from hopeful optimism to annoyed pout as the captains chose someone else yet again. William recognized her, although he had never seen her
loitering among the other children. Though her clothes appeared as worn as anyone’s, hers were at least clean, and her hair less unkempt than her peers’. Inevitably, she was the last one chosen, stomping to her seat behind Kofi with a miffed expression.

  Ruskin signaled to William that the selection process was complete. William stepped onto the dais and addressed the crowd. “Team Santiago, Team Kofi, are you ready? Today’s events will determine the winner and loser of the trial. The loser must do the winner’s bidding for an entire day, from sunup to sundown—within reason, of course. The judges of each event will be my former teacher Miss Peggy Plevins, Miss Agatha Litton, and Miss Melissa Reid…who will soon be Lady Melissa of Whitehall Manor.” The room erupted in applause at the last announcement, and shouts of congratulations offered.

  “The first event is Mr. Ruskin’s idea,” continued William. “As we have never held a mustering drill, we will use this opportunity to have our first. Each team will be spread out at places marked by flags of each team’s color, one flag per person. There are two bells, one at the manor, the other at the village square. Only one of these bells will ring. When it does, each team will race to the bell, and the first team with all its members present will win the event. Does everyone understand? Mr. Ruskin and Mr. Doran will inspect the teams to make sure all flags are occupied before the bell is rung. The judges and I will remain here until Mr. Domnall rings one of the two bells.”

  The two teams left with Jack and Ruskin to find their starting places, leaving William and the three women alone. “How long must we wait here?” asked Agatha, who had yet to crack a smile during the proceedings.

  William leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Once Jack and Ruskin get the teams in place, we can head back to the manor.”

  “You’ve already decided which bell will be rung?” asked Miss Plevins.

  “Well…we don’t actually have two bells,” admitted William. “It turns out they’re more expensive than we thought.”

  “Do the villagers know their lord is a big fat liar?” asked Melissa.

  “I’m sure it’ll come out in time,” said William. “Ah, here come Jack and Ruskin now.”

  Ruskin lifted his hand in greeting. “The teams are ready, sir.”

  “Tell me again what this is good for, Will?” asked Jack as they hurried back to the manor.

  William gave him a sidelong glance. “Come on, Jack. You know as well as I do what mustering is for.”

  “There hasn’t been an attack on a barony or village since…well, since Rebel Falls.”

  “And before that, the one my father died defending,” said William with a hurt look. “But even if there’s never another attack, we still might have to fight a fire one day. We need to do this.”

  “Fine,” said Jack. “Ruskin and I will head back to the starting places to stop cheaters. We wouldn’t want a fire to be extinguished against the rules, would we?”

  William did his best not to let Jack’s complaints sour his mood and maintained a pleasant chatter with Melissa and Miss Plevins, while Agatha plodded on silently beside them. Clyde followed in a zigzag path, inspecting and tasting various plants, occasionally testing his wings with mixed and sometimes humorous results. As they neared the manor, William waved at Oz, who stood near a large brass bell hanging from a solid wooden frame several yards from the front steps. “Ring the bell Oz!”

  Oz did as instructed, yanking the rope for a full minute until William stopped him. The three judges lined up to count the team members who would arrive shortly to muster in their team zones, marked by either red or green bunting.

  Several minutes passed before any contestants came into view. The first runner was Melissa’s not-so-secret favorite, the young girl who had been picked last. Behind her came several other children, followed by the teens and young adults. William wasn’t near enough to keep count, but the teams appeared evenly matched so far.

  Kofi appeared, along with a few other adults, and his team surged ahead. “How many left?” he asked Melissa during a lull.

  Melissa checked her list. “Two for Kofi, and nine for Santiago. I would have expected Santiago by now; Kofi’s older and heavier.”

  “I don’t like Santiago’s chances,” said William. “Didn’t he pick two or three old folks for his team?”

  Miss Plevins cleared her throat pointedly. “Don’t count out us old folks, William. We may surprise you.”

  “They’ll have to surprise me soon,” he answered. “Here come two more with green ribbons. Not too quickly though; more of a walk than a run.”

  “Ah, but here comes Santiago…and the rest of his team,” said Miss Plevins. William peered past the two stragglers from Kofi’s team. Behind them, and gaining quickly, came three pairs of able-bodied men, each pair carrying an elderly teammate between them. Thus burdened, they could hardly run at top speed, but they easily passed Kofi’s teammates and crossed the finish line several paces ahead.

  After a quick huddle, William announced his verdict. “The judges are all in agreement—Team Santiago wins the first event!” Santiago’s team began cheering, while William detected sounds of disappointment and even bickering from the opposing side. He motioned for silence. “I know you’re all tired from the race, and I thank you all for doing your best. One day, this bell may be rung for a more serious purpose. If that day ever comes, I hope you’ll show the same resolve as you did today, because it may mean a fire to douse, or bandits to fight off.”

  Both teams applauded—one louder than the other—and William waited a moment before raising his hands for silence. “I know you’re all tuckered out from the race, but the next event will begin shortly. When I look around this barony, I don’t see a single statue of King Duncan. Well, we don’t have time to build a statue, but I’m sure you fine people could assemble a straw man in short order. Each team will create a likeness of Duncan on his throne using only things you find lying around or unused in your own homes. That means no chopping down trees or breaking fences. The three judges will remove themselves from the area so they don’t know which Duncan belongs to which team. Mr. Doran and Mr. Ruskin will show each team where to build their Straw Duncan. You have three hours. Go!”

  The teams began huddling as soon as William gave the signal to start, several members immediately running to look for things to use on their team’s effigy.

  Melissa approached him with a coy look and slid her arms around his waist. “We have three hours to kill. What should we do now? Something to do with the wedding, perhaps?”

  “I’m famished. Let’s go in for lunch,” answered William. “Ruskin can watch the teams. If anything gets out of hand he can call for me.” As they walked to the manor, William detected a note of disappointment in Melissa’s expression.

  Mrs. Gracey served lunch, ecstatic at the opportunity to cook for more than just William and Jack. She made a show of it, setting out dishes and cutlery William didn’t even know he owned. Oz helped serve the meal, though he was still wary of Miss Plevins. “This is magnificent, William,” said Miss Plevins between courses. “I love nothing more than seeing a student of mine succeed. You’ve made an old teacher proud.”

  William glanced over his soup at her. “Not so old you couldn’t teach somewhere else, I hope?”

  Miss Plevins lowered her glass and shared a sad look with Agatha before answering. “Who would have us William? I’ve never made a secret of having a woman as a partner, but nobody seemed to know it, or admit they knew. But now that it’s in the open, I can’t find a place willing to accept me as their children’s teacher. I knew the day would come when we would have to leave Marshland, so I sent letters to schools in every town along the Faywater, and several along the coast. Word has gotten around, apparently. I’m afraid my teaching days are over.” Her eyes teared up as she said it, but she refused to give in to weeping. Still, she kept her gaze on the dish Mrs. Gracey set in front of her.

  “You could teach here,” said William.

  Miss Pl
evins looked up, hope replacing the despair in her face. “Oh William, do you mean it?” she asked in a soft voice.

  Jack raised an eyebrow, his face full of concern. “Will, are you sure you can do this?”

  “Yes, I’m certain,” he answered, knowing Jack was referring to the expense of paying and housing a teacher in such a small community. But he owed Miss Plevins this much, and more. And while he knew he couldn’t afford to keep bringing in strays, he couldn’t refuse her. “I can’t pay you much, Miss Plevins. In fact, I can only cover your rent for the first few months. But we’ll build you a home and a coop for your chickens, and you can sell eggs to earn a little money. You can eat here in the manor to save expenses and keep me company. The meeting hall will serve as a schoolhouse, which is just as well because it sits empty most days anyway. I hope you’ll accept, because what this barony needs even more than a statue of a distant king is a truly great teacher.”

  The relief in the faces of Miss Plevins and Agatha was evident as they broke down and hugged. Melissa squeezed William’s hand, and even Jack’s face relaxed into a smile.

  “Peggy told me you were a good, young man,” said Agatha, a smile lighting her face for the first time in William’s memory. “Now I see why.”

  “You don’t know what this means to us, William. Thank you!” said Miss Plevins as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Can I do anything for you in return?”

  “I’m in your debt,” answered William. “Not the other way around. But if you would do one more thing for me…”

  “Name it,” she said.

  He glanced across the table to where Oz was pouring wine for Jack. “Oz needs a tutor. He wants to learn to read.”

  Oz looked up, mortified, unaware Jack’s cup was overflowing. Jack cleared his throat, and Oz gasped as he realized his error. He quickly wiped the spill, his face a mixture of fear, hope, and embarrassment, all the while mumbling apologies to Jack. When the mess was cleaned, he looked at Miss Plevins, like a prisoner waiting to hear his fate.